


Within the Woods

by Little_Inkstone



Series: Rumbelle Warrior Cats AU [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Everyone from OUaT is here, F/M, Rumbelle Warrior Cats AU, they're cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8386837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Inkstone/pseuds/Little_Inkstone
Summary: As ForestClan’s medicine cat Rumpledpelt’s first loyalty should be to his clan, and for most of his life it was, until he met the pretty she-cat Belle and his priorities changed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a new prompt verse! I have a basic idea for where to take this but other then that everything is up for fair game! You can leave an idea in the comments or you can send me a prompt at my tumblr: little-inkstone.tumblr.com

The sun-dappled forest was quiet as the golden brown tabby, the same colour as straw with warm brown stripes, padded through the trees.  He stopped occasionally to sniff the air, his ears flicking this way and that to pick up any faint sounds.  Despite his frequent stops he paid no mind to the fluttering of birds in the trees or the skittering of mice in the underbrush.  Instead, when he was sure he was not being followed he continued on his way, focusing solely on his destination.

When the cat reached a large tree in the middle of a wide clearing he flattened his ears and crouched low to the ground, beginning to creep forward on silent paws.  It was slow going, every muscle tense, but soon he was on the other side of the glade.  The trees were thinner and younger here than the ones in his forest but he still felt more at ease walking through them then he had moments ago in the clearing.  That wasn’t the only reason he was more relaxed, soon he would be at his destination.

A fence halted him in his tracks and he tasted the air for danger one last time.  The cloying scent of cultivated flowers was almost overpowering, but not so much that he couldn’t also detect the fragrance of the one he has come to see.  Tensing his muscles he leapt, landing effortlessly atop the wooden planks. With his eyes that shone like honey in the sun he scanned the garden before him.  He jumped down into the thick flower bushes below, hidden from view, and waited.  A shiver of excitement ran down his spine when the strange clear-stone that marked the entrance of the place he was watching slide aside.  A Twoleg moved it easily, making an opening that lead to its large nest.

It would only be a moment until he saw… until he saw…

Rumpledpelt blinked awake from his dream, the scent of the Twoleg’s garden still clinging to his fur.  Stretching out he began to groom his sleep-ruffled fur.  His paws prickled, itching to follow the path his dream-self had taken. Soon he would, but not yet.  If it were his choice he’d bound out of his den and race to the place he’d been dreaming of, but he had responsibilities; things were expected of him.

He stretched once more before padding over to a nest of moss not so far from his own.  He poked the large ball of gray fur sleeping peacefully within.  The fur-ball twitched, revealing a very sleepy cat; the gray tom raised his head and blinked groggily.  Seeing his mentor standing over him he jumped to his feet his fur ruffled and standing on end.

“What a lazy apprentice I have.”  Rumpledpelt remarked with a flick of his tail.  “Sleeping the day away when there’s work to be done.”

Dockpaw, named for two of the herbs they frequently used to treat sick cats, bowed his head with his ears flattened.  “Sorry, Rumpledpelt.”

“The day has only just begun.”  He amended, taking the bite out of his voice.  “I suppose you’ll be useless to the clan if I run you ragged by expecting you to be up before the sun itself.”  Turning away from his contrite apprentice he flicked his tail again.  “Come on, we’ll get nothing done standing around and talking.”

Watching his apprentice at work a little later he considered Dockpaw and his skills.  He was a bit old to still be an apprentice, but that was normal for medicine cats in training.  If he’d chosen to walk the path of a warrior he’d already have his full name, just like his brother Gruffrock.  As it was it was probably time for him to take the gray tom to Returning Well, and its deep waters that allowed the clan cats to speak to their ancestors.

Dockpaw would make a good medicine cat when the time came; he knew his herbs and was liked by the other cats –unlike Rumpledpelt – but he was too timid.  Medicine cats needed to be tough, or at least be both gentle and firm.  Warriors tended to complain like newborn kits at the smallest scratch or upset-stomach. It was important to be able to boss them around when they started to whine.

Even so, knowing he’d never make his apprentice as terse or blunt as him he hadn’t bothered trying; instead playing to Dockpaw’s strengths.  The cats of his clan would probably be surprised to learn that he could be understanding or even kind when he wanted to be.  Very few cats saw glimpses of his good moods, except for… Rumpledpelt shook his head, he could think of that later.  At the moment he needed to focus on his duties.  The sooner they were done he could leave.

Licking his paw and drawing it over his ear he looked up at the sky, the sun slowly crawling to the highest point.  The morning had gone by slowly, but finally it was time.  Whiskers twitching in pleasure he made his excuses and slipped away. His paws felt light as he scampered through the trees, enjoying the warm weather as the sun warmed his fur.  He wasn’t a young cat, but these excursions made him feel like one; he’d come to live for these outings.

Soon he passed through the large clearing that held the Gathering Tree, where all four clans met on the full moon, and into the place where the Twolegs made their dens. Just like in his dream he jumped up onto the fence and then down in the shrubs and then waited, his eyes focused on the clear-stone.  His breath caught in his throat as it began to move just as it had in his dream, just as it had countless times before.  One of his ear twitched as his heart pounded in his chest.

A beautiful she-cat slipped out of the den, letting out a soft meow to her Twoleg.  Her coat was fluffy and cream coloured, except for her face, ears, tail and legs which were all a dark brown; but her delicate paws were a blazing white standing out against the rest of her colouring.  She was small, smaller than him actually even though she was full grown, but to him that just made her more perfect.

Greedily he watched her as she sniffed the air and walked further into the grassy opening. Her eyes lit-up and he knew she’d picked up on his scent.  He let out a pleased purr as she changed course and ran to him.  He met her half-way, unable to hold back any longer, he didn’t care that he’d exposed himself and left the safety of the bushes, he’d waited too long to see her again and he couldn’t wait a moment longer.

“Rumple!”  She purred loudly, rubbing herself against him, trying to get as close to him as she could.

He happily returned her embrace, purring as noisily as she was.  “ _Belle_.”  Rumple sighed, his eyes slipping closed in contentment.

They could have stayed like that all day, but eventually they settled down to groom each other and exchange news, or sharing tongues as it was known among the clan cats. Belle told him about the shrew she’d caught the night before among the fragrant flowers in her yard.  It had been old and probably half deaf she admitted, but that didn’t dim the pride he felt as she told him about it and he told Belle so, nuzzling her as he did.  When she asked about his day he shared with her more aspects of clan life and how he was almost done with training his apprentice.

Belle was fascinated with the clans, hungering for any detail he’d be willing to share with her about it, she hung on his every word, her blue eyes fixed on him completely enraptured by the stories he told.  Her enthusiasm and gentle probing often lead to him sharing more than he had planned, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.  It wasn’t just the clans she wanted to know about either; she’d slowly coaxed him into sharing his own history with her.  Every painful detail; from barely surviving a run in with a dog that left his right back foot terribly scared and achy on rainy days to the rogue he’d taken as a mate before she’d left him to join another clan.

Medicine cats were forbidden from having kits or mates, but he hadn’t been one at the time. He’d been a young warrior when she’d left, having just received his name.  His former mate had only returned when he was almost done his medicine cat training, a small scrap of fur that was undoubtedly his kit held in her jaws. She’d left their kit with him, wanting to start fresh in her new clan, and she couldn’t do that with his kit serving as a reminder of her previous choices.

Rumpledpelt had been more reluctant to tell Belle about the code that forbade Medicine cats from having mates or kits then he had been sharing the story of his former mate. He didn’t want to examine those feelings too closely; they could only lead to ruin and heartbreak.  Counter point to that talking about his kit, Balepaw, came easily to him.  He loved sharing stories of his son’s accomplishments; he’d be a fine warrior someday soon.

As she continued to affectionately groom him he followed that train of thought, speaking of the pride and joy he felt for his son.  Occasionally Belle chimed in with a question or comment, but mostly she stayed silent, purring.

Curled up with in the sun with Belle he began to feel drowsy, his eye lids growing heavy. Belle’s licks began to slow, until she stopped completely, resting her muzzle atop his shoulders.  It wasn’t uncommon for him to nap alongside the lovely she-cat that had become his friend over the recent moons.  He felt no apprehension settling down, allowing her soft, even, breathing to lull him to sleep.

Just as he was fully relaxing a strange noise made his ears prick up, twitching in irritation. The sound was followed by a familiar cat scent that he was too tired to place.  Rumpledpelt snuggled closer to Belle, choosing to ignore it.  There weren’t many cats that lived close to Belle, and only one other clan cat ever visited her.  He and the enemy she-cat had an unspoken agreement to keep their shared secret; because of that he felt no fear being in the open with Belle.

The smell and sound continued to increase; as it did so something tickled the back of his mind. The stray thought pulled him out of his doze.  Something wasn’t right; anxiety filled him as his eyes shot open.  He knew that scent but it wasn’t the smell of the clan he was expecting.  With fur bristling he turned to Belle, carefully nuzzling her.

“Belle,” Rumpledpelt hissed, reluctant to wake her, but he needed to flee without being seen and he couldn’t with her sleeping on top of him.  “Belle, I need to leave.”

Letting out a yawn, Belle looked at him, sleep-muddled and confused.  “What?”  She asked sleepily.

“I need –” Before he could finish a loud meow cut him off.

“Well, Rumpledpelt, I never expected to find you so far from home.”  A pale silvery-blue tabby tom with sharp blue eyes said, sounding far too pleased with his discovery.

“Who are you?” Belle asked, detangling herself from Rumpledpelt.  He felt the loss of her warmth keenly, but it was for the best they had stopped snuggling in front of the intruder.

“I’m Whalefoam,” The tabby replied, making himself comfortable on the fence.

“Oh, are you from Rumple’s clan?”  Belle questioned, looking at Rumpledpelt, her head titled slightly.

“ _Rumple_.”  Whalefoam repeated, looking as if he’d just devoured a succulent bit of prey.  “No, no.”  He finally replied with a purr.  “I’m from another clan, SeaClan, to be exact; and who are you, kittypet? You wouldn’t happen to be our dear _Rumple’s_ mate, would you?”

“Medicine cats aren’t allowed to have mates.”  Belle replied tactfully, wearier of her visitor now that she knew he wasn’t someone Rumple would consider an alley.

“As you well know, Whalefoam, you are one as well after all.”  Rumpledpelt growled, moving to stand in front of Belle.  “What are you doing here anyway?”

Casually the tom licked his paw.  “I’m looking for lavender; it only really grows around Twoleg place.”  He stopped licking his paw, slyly looking at Rumpledpelt through the corner of his eye.  “But the real question is: what are _you_ doing here?  I highly doubt you’re searching for herbs like I am; and what would your clan say if they knew you spent your afternoons cuddling a kittypet?  I doubt they’d be amused.”  He purred.

Biting back an insult he flexed his claws, digging into the soft earth beneath his feet; he needed to come up with a believable excuse and quickly.  “StarClan has sent me a message.”  Rumple lied.  “And terrible things happen when StarClan’s prophecies are ignored.”  He added drawing back his lips and hissing at the silver tom, thrashing his tail.  “You of all cats should understand that.”  He spat.

Whalefoam stiffened his fur bristling.  “I don’t believe you.”  He snapped, his calm demeanour shattering.  “What message could StarClan have for a _kittypet_?”

“She’s to join my clan.”  Rumple lied quickly, the reason sounding unrealistic to his own ears.

“Really?”  The silver tom asked, his eyes narrowing. Rumpledpelt braced himself for Whalefoam’s well-deserved scorn at the hasty lie, but it never came.  “Well then,”  He purred, putting Rumple on edge.  “I can’t wait to see her at the next gathering.”

With those parting words, an inherent threat left unsaid, he jumped down on the other side of the fence; leaving them alone.  Rumpledpelt’s fur, which had been puffed up during the confrontation, began to flatten. Straining his ears and nose he waited until all signs of Whalefoam were gone; then he turned to Belle.  He wasn’t sure what her reaction to his bold lies would be.  Would she admonish him for involving her in his outrageous excuse for why he chose to visit her?

His breath caught when he finally looked at her.  Belle was looking at him with her wide blue eyes.  They were shining brightly; excitement was radiating off of her.

“I know you were lying to him,”  She began. “But do you think your clan would really allow me to join?”

Her question made him feel slightly sick.  The wild life of a clan cat was all well and good in a story, but in real life it was hard and cold.  There was never really enough food, even during the warmest time of year, green-leaf. Because of this the clans were constantly at war with each other over territory.  Rumpledpelt warned her about these things, watching as she listened and nodded solemnly as he spoke.

Belle deserved more than the life that he lived.  His clan, as well as the other three, looked down on kittypets, but he was thankful that Belle was one, she wanted for nothing and he knew that she was always safe.  When it rained he knew she was dry, when the cold winds blew he knew she was warm, and when the clan starved he knew she was fed.  If she joined his clan all of those certainties would disappear.  He kneaded the ground as another more selfish thought entered his mind.  If Belle joined the clan he would lose his private moments with her.

If she did choose to join the price seemed too great.  Rumpledpelt sighed, but it wasn’t his price to pay, it was Belle’s.  He’d do anything do anything to make her happy, even if it made him miserable.

“They might.” He finally admitted after he’d carefully explained why choosing to do so would cost her greatly.  “It’s not unheard of for Clans to take in rogues, _but_ ,”  He added. “You’re a kittypet, that’s different; they might not be very accepting.”

She nodded again, thinking over his words.  “I’ve never felt like I belong here.”  Belle confessed softly, her tone of voicing breaking his heart.  “I live for your stories, Rumple, but always thought that life was barred to me; but if there’s a chance?  If I could be with you, if I could be free?  I have to try.  Do you understand, Rumple?”

He stepped forward, nuzzling her.  “Of course I understand, Belle.”

Licking his shoulder Belle began to purr, nuzzling him back.  Rumple breathed in her scent, savouring how close they were.  His very being called out for Belle but he refused to dwell on what he was feeling or _why_ he was feeling it.  He had broken no rules, disrespected no vows, but he knew no cat would believe him; especially if they saw him like this with Belle.

“If you’re accepted we won’t be able to do this anymore.”  Rumple rumbled, his tail brushing her flank.

“I understand.” Belle pulled back and pressed her nose to his.  “But I’m sure we can; we’ve done nothing wrong, we haven’t broken any of the tenets you’ve told me about.  There’s no reason we can’t still have this, and if there’s an objection we’ll find a way.” She said optimistically.

Rumpledpelt had never been one for hope, but when Belle was staring into his eyes he felt as if anything was possible.  Belle would have everything she wanted; he was determined to make it so.  She would join his clan and be with him always, and they would remain as close as they were.   _Maybe closer_ , a traitorous voice whispered, but he ignored it.

“Come,”  He beckoned, standing up and waving his tail at her.  “Let me show you where ForestClan, my – our – clan lives.”

Belle jumped to her feet, excitement making her whiskers quiver.  They padded up to the fence and with one easy leap they were both standing on top of the wooden planks.  He could feel Belle tense beside him as she looked out into the trees. The tip of her tail twitched as her paws fidgeted against the wood.

“I’ve never left my yard without my Twolegs.”  Belle admitted, her embarrassment clear.  “They’d take me out to walk around the other Twoleg homes and yards on a leash. Besides that I’ve never been anywhere.”

“This is your choice.”  He murmured, pressing his nose to her side in reassurance.

He saw the moment that her resolve hardened, her eyes clearly showing her determination. She nodded to herself, crouched as best she could while balancing, and then jumped.  Her landing was perfect and graceful as she took her first steps into freedom; it looked as if she’d done it hundreds of times.  Belle looked around, her ears perked up and her fur puffed out with excitement.  Rumpledpelt followed her, letting out a delighted purr as he licked her ear and nudged her.

“You’ve done wonderfully.”  He praised.

“The grass feels less prickly on this side of the fence.”  She said, wonderment filling her voice.

“It’s even better in the forest.”  Rumple replied.  “Let me show you?”  Belle’s eyes were bright as she turned to look at him and nodded excitedly.

The trip from camp to Belle’s yard wasn’t a long one; but it took twice as long on the return journey since she stopped every few steps to smell something new or investigate an exciting sound.  He didn’t mind, watching indulgently as she raced back and forth from tree to tree. When they finally made it to the thick underbrush that made up the camp walls he signalled for silence with his tail. Belle obeyed, but he could still see her paws trembling with what was no doubt nerves and anticipation.  He couldn’t blame her; his own stomach was being racked by claws of anxiety and a small spark of eagerness.

Rumpledpelt nosed his way through the main entrance, a tunnel through a large thicket of gorse. The path was well worn by many cats over many, many seasons and generations; even still, stray twigs pulled at his fur as he walked.  He could hear Belle following behind him and he felt his stomach fill with fluttering moths. This was the moment of truth; it all came down to this.

As he entered the camp’s clearing he tried to look at it with fresh eyes, as if he was Belle seeing it for the first time.

Directly across from the entrance was the warrior’s den, positioned so they could guard the camp even while resting.  It was made up of a large bush with broad leaves and tightly packed branches to protect against the elements in all seasons.  Slightly to the right of that was a fallen – but still living – ash tree resting on top of a squat bolder.  This was where the clan leader called for meetings and slept, protected by the tree’s branches.  To the proper right of the entrance was the apprentice’s den.  Beside that was the nursery, a raspberry bush with sharp thorns carefully arranged to protect the young kits from intruders, but not in such a way that they’d be poked.

To the left was his own den made up of a tree-stump and cracked rock where he could keep his supplies and moss nest dry.  Between there and the warrior’s den was a fallen log where the elders slept among lush bracken and sweet smelling flowers.  It wasn’t anything like where Belle had lived, but it was his home and he hoped she liked it.

Quietly he pointed out the places he’d just surveyed to Belle as she sheltered in the gore tunnel’s entrance.

“…and that’s where we keep our fresh-kill.”  He whispered, gesturing to a rock that was more or less in the centre of camp, only slightly off to the left side.

Her eyes were wide and excited as she hung on his every word.  No one had spotted or smelt her yet and for that Rumpledpelt was glad.   He didn’t know what would happen once his clan became aware of her.  She crept forward to get a better look at the places he’d explained to her, and that’s when an apprentice walked by with a plump mouse in his jaws.  The light brown tabby tom’s blue-green eyes widened, the prey falling from his mouth.  Before Rumpledpelt could stop him he was running off, no doubt to get his mentor.

“I suppose there’s no point in hiding now.”  Belle muttered ruefully.  As she spoke she came out of the tunnel fully, shaking herself free of any sticks or leaves that may have been clinging to her fur.

Thanks to the apprentice they were soon surrounded by several cats, fur bristling and eyes narrowed with hostility.  An old white tom with long hair stepped forward, his tail trashing back and forth. Rumple stepped in front of Belle but the effort was wasted, Belle coming to stand beside him, looking around with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.  She licked her chest fur self-consciously as they all continued to stare.

“Who have you brought to us, Rumpledpelt?”  The white tom asked, eyeing Belle suspiciously.

“This is Belle, Lionstar, she’d –”

“I’d like to join your clan.”  Belle interrupted, her enthusiasm finally getting the best of her.

There were several hisses and exclamations of disbelief followed by loud muttering. Coldly he looked at each of his clan mates in turn.  Several of the more vocal members yowled about Belle being a burden or an extra mouth to feed.  The word _kittypet_ kept being brought up until it was an almost deafening crescendo.  He turned to look at Belle, worried that she’d be cowering beside him, instead her head was held high and looking directly at the cats before her.  Pride filled him as she stood her ground; he could see it in her eyes that she had the warrior’s spirit even if she wasn’t clan-born.

“It’s not every day that a kittypet asks to join a clan,”  Lionstar rumbled affably.  “Are you sure this is something you really want?”  He questioned.

“Yes, it is.” Belle nodded solemnly.

“Life would be hard, young one.”  He warned. “You would need to follow the warrior code and all it demands; it’s a life of sacrifice and danger.”

Before Belle could reply a dark brown, almost black, she-cat with hazel eyes stepped forward. “You can’t _honestly_ be considering allowing this pampered Twoleg toy join us.”  She murmured her eyes flashing.

“Look at her.” A gray, almost blue, she-cat added. “I doubt she even has her claws still.”

“I have claws enough to scratch.”  Belle hissed back, raising her paws into the air and flexing her claws at the scornful cats. Rumpledpelt tried to hide the pleasure he felt watching how fierce his little Belle was when faced with a challenge.

“Silence now, Bluewing.”  Lionstar hushed.  “You’re right, Heartclaw, we can’t simply allow a kittypet with no training join us, she must prove herself.”  The clan leader sized her up.  “I think, if you can…”  He trailed off looking at the cats present for his declaration.  “Hold your own against an apprentice in battle you may join.”

Rumpledpelt stiffened, his fur beginning to stand-up.  “That’s not fair!”  He growled. “Belle has no training, how is she supposed to beat an apprentice?”

“If she can’t defend herself she doesn’t belong here.”  Heartclaw said coldly, her voice was calm but her fur was rising as well. He flattened his ears and hissed.

“It’s okay, Rumple.” Belle said softly, her brown tail brushing his flank.  “I know I can do this.”

He looked at her, worry shining in his eyes but he settled back down.  There were currently four apprentices in training, excluding his own apprentice that left three that could challenge Belle.  Swanpaw was eager and full of energy, but she’d just begun her education; it would be easy for Belle to wrestle her and come out as the winner.  Then there was Pinepaw, the light brown tabby with darker stripes that had first spotted Belle, he was a bit older, and could be trouble.  Finally there was his son, Balepaw, he was the closest to finishing his training and would definitely give Belle the most trouble out of the three. He was also Bluewing’s apprentice, and he could easily see her encouraging him to attack.

There was a gap among the clan cats now, leaving Belle alone as she waited for her challenger. His breath caught as he watched Balepaw crouch down, getting ready to pounce, but before he could spring forward Pinepaw beat him to it.  Belle jumped nimbly out of the way easily avoiding the apprentice’s swipe, returning the failed blow with one of her own, cuffing him on the side of his head.  The apprentice rolled with the blow, shaking his head to get his bearings, before he could recover Belle was on him again.

Pinepaw let out a soft _oof_ of discomfort as she landed atop him but again before he could react she had bounced away.  The apprentice hadn’t gotten a hit in yet, but Belle wasn’t using her claws, she was just batting at the young tom, she wouldn’t win that way.  She didn’t have the stamina to outlast a trained clan cat, even if it was just an apprentice.  He held his breath as Pinepaw’s claws sliced through the air where just a moment ago Belle’s muzzle had been.  She hissed in return, striking out and catching him across the ear again.

Around him the clan was yowling and hissing, some shouting advice or encouragement to Pinepaw, others surprisingly enough cheering for Belle.  As he continued to watch something about Belle’s movements started to look familiar to him.  He couldn’t put his paw on it, but he knew he’d seen it before; it was the only reason that she hadn’t been outmatched by Pinepaw yet.  His eyes widened as Belle recovered from the first blow the apprentice had managed to land.  Both out of worry for her and because he’d finally figured out what her movements reminded him of.  Belle was moving the way her she-cat friend moved in battle, he’d seen it a few times before.  It was a fighting style designed to use speed and wits over strength.

“C’mon!”  A yowl pulled him from his total focus on Belle. “Don’t let a stinking _kittypet_ give you trouble, show her what it means to be a _real_ clan cat!”  Rumple’s tail drooped as he watched his son cheer on his friend and hiss insults at Belle.

It wasn’t surprising really.  He was being trained by Bluewing, and often mentors influenced their apprentices’ view on things more than any other cat; and barring that Rumpledpelt had no sway over his son’s opinions.  They’d been at odds for a quite some time now.  In fact Belle showing up with him was probably a mark against her in Balepaw’s judgment.

His attention was pulled back the fight, Belle letting out a loud cry of pain as Pinepaw finally pinned her down, his claws sinking into her shoulders.  He jumped to his paws, ready to race forward and knock the young upstart off of his Belle, but at that moment Lionstar stood.

“Enough!”  He called over the caterwauling. Immediately Pinepaw jumped off Belle, backing away from her while breathing heavily.  Lionstar stepped towards Belle and she stood.  “You did well.”

“Thank you.”  Belle panted.  She was almost completely unhurt, her mid-length coat having protected her from most of the blows.  She wasn’t even bleeding from her shoulder where Pinepaw had gotten his claws into her.

“You managed to keep a trained apprentice off kilter; if you’d struck with your claws you might have even had a chance of winning.”  He tilted his head to the side contemplating her before speaking again.  “I have always appreciated your input and advice, Rumpledpelt, but this cat you’ve brought to us should have been training as an apprentice for several moons at this point.  Before I allow her to join I need to ask, why her?”

“Dreams from StarClan lead me to her.” He said, speaking before he could stop to think. It wasn’t totally untrue, he never would have visited Belle’s yard the first time if it weren’t for a dream from their ancestors, but every visit after that had been of his own doing. And that first dream had definitely not been meant to lead him to Belle.

A soft murmur of awe traveled through the crowed of cats at the mention of their starry ancestors. Belle turned to look at him sharply, both of them knowing he was stretching the truth, if not totally lying. Lionstar’s eyes widened, taken aback by his medicine cat’s claim.

“Is this true?” He asked.  “Has StarClan brought this cat to us?  For what purpose?”

“Yes.”  Rumpledpelt said, doubling down on the falsehood.  “For what reason I cannot say.”

As he replied a hunting party entered the clearing, bring a bounty of fresh-kill with them. Neither the leader nor the medicine cat paid them any mind, focused on each other.  Finally Lionstar nodded and padded over to his fallen tree, jumping up on it easily.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Fallen Ash for a Clan meeting.”  He called out.  The cats in the hunting party looked up surprised but the ones that had been in clearing knew what was coming.  Rumpledpelt nudged Belle forward and then stepped back to watch her become part of his clan.  “Belle, you’ve joined us under unusual circumstances but I know you will make a fine member of our clan.  Until you receive your warrior name you will be known as Sweetpaw.  You mentor will be–”  Lionstar stopped to look over the crowed.  “Regalclaw.  I hope Regalclaw will pass down all she knows on to you.”

The black she-cat looked up in surprise when Lionstar called her name, Heartclaw’s soft hiss of “ _What_?” was enough to force Rumpledpelt to hold back a smug chuckle.

“Regalclaw,” Their leader continued.  “You have received excellent training from Heartclaw, and you have shown yourself to be cunning and as swift as an adder.  You will be the mentor of Sweetpaw, and I expect you to pass on all you know to this young cat.”

The black she-cat padded forward, confusion and a hint of distaste showing on her face as she greeted her new apprentice.  Any of the humour Rumpledpelt had felt evaporated.  Regalclaw was a good warrior, but she was just like her mother/mentor Heartclaw, arrogant and short tempered.  She was a poor fit for Belle’s kind disposition, but then again he didn’t think that any cat would be good enough to train Belle.

He was brought out of that dour thought by the clan calling Belle’s new name, some of the voices even sounded sincerely welcoming.  He joined in, mourning the loss of Sweetpaw’s former name; it had suited her so beautifully.


End file.
